


This Is Home

by notactuallysatan



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Adoption, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Borderline Child Neglect, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Gremlin TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I wrote 90 percent of this in one day I was on a roll, Past Child Abuse, Protective TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Running Away, Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Toby Smith | Tubbo Angst, Toby Smith | Tubbo Deserves Better, Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, Trauma, Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, now I'm very behind on homework but it's okay, they play minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notactuallysatan/pseuds/notactuallysatan
Summary: TW: Child abuse, borderline neglect, running awayHot tears give his face a temporary escape from the bitter cold. He really hadn't thought this through. He just didn't want to spend one more sleepless night in that stuffy room right next to his dad. But he's thinking too much. He's just got to get through tonight and figure out tomorrow tomorrow.He pulls out his phone and presses Tommy's name. The phone rings several times before he hears Tommy's voice."Hey Tubbo... why're you up this time of night?" Tommy says, his voice slightly raspy with sleep."I- I'm sorry for waking you up. I just-"Tommy interrupts him. "Tubbo, are you home? I hear cars.""No, I'm at a bus stop. Can you tell me how to get to your house? I... I can't- I can't go home." He chokes out the last sentence as he tries to silence a sob. But Tommy notices."Shit, Tubbo, the bus doesn't come here. I'm getting Phil, alright? We're coming to get you."OR: Tubbo runs away and finds his real family.(not a songfic just used This Is Home for names)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 653
Collections: Best of MCYT's





	1. but strangely he feels at home in this place...

Tubbo has been lying in bed for almost four hours when he comes to a decision. The night's events keep replaying in his head no matter how hard he tries to suppress them.

Shouting. Screaming. Running. Pain.

He sits upright. He can't stay here any longer. He doesn't know where he'll go, but any place has got to be better than here.

As quietly as he can, he quickly packs a bag. It can't be too big, as he can’t drive, but he needs his school things and some clothes for tomorrow... fuck, his toothbrush is in the bathroom. The upstairs bathroom, the one attached to his dad's room. He's scared if his dad hears him rummaging around in there, he'll be found out. It's fine, he can buy a new one later.

He throws a few last things in his bag, before grabbing his shoes and pulling on a hoodie. Then, as quietly as he can, he tiptoes downstairs and out the front door.

The _thunk_ that the door makes as it shuts is too loud, and Tubbo grimaces. Just to be safe, he runs down the block in his sock feet to make sure he's not being followed. Luckily, the house stays dark and Tubbo puts on his shoes.

He won't get very far on foot, that's for sure. So he walks in the direction he thinks there's a bus stop in. While he walks, he ponders where he'll sleep tonight. He can't just keep walking all night- the wind is colder than it should be in October, and his bag is already hurting his shoulders. Plus, if he goes to his usual school bus stop in the morning, his dad might be looking for him there. He's barely got enough money for a cheap hotel, but after that, it’s gone. As for friends, he doesn't have many, so the answer is obvious: Tommy.

It's not ideal, he thinks as he reaches the bus stop and plops down on the cold metal bench. He doesn't know how to get to Tommy's house by bus, and it'll probably be almost morning by the time he walks there. He'll have to call Tommy and see if he can tell Tubbo how to get there by bus. Tommy can't drive either.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should have just waited one more day and asked Tommy if he could stay the night tomorrow. Fuck, Tubbo doesn't even know what he'll do tomorrow, since Tommy probably can't let him stay two nights in a row. Will he have to drop out of school to get a job? He's only sixteen. He doesn't know how to get a job or get an apartment, or if a sixteen year old can even do those things. Maybe he'll have to sleep on the streets.

Hot tears give his face a temporary escape from the bitter cold. He really hadn't thought this through. He just didn't want to spend one more sleepless night in that stuffy room right next to his dad. But he's thinking too much. He's just got to get through tonight and figure out tomorrow tomorrow.

He pulls out his phone and presses Tommy's name. The phone rings several times before he hears Tommy's voice.

"Hey Tubbo... why're you up this time of night?" Tommy says, his voice slightly raspy with sleep.

"I- I'm sorry for waking you up. I just-"

Tommy interrupts him. "Tubbo, are you home? I hear cars."

"No, I'm at a bus stop. Can you tell me how to get to your house? I... I can't- I can't go home." He chokes out the last sentence as he tries to silence a sob. But Tommy notices.

"Shit, Tubbo, the bus doesn't come here. I'm getting Phil, alright? We're coming to get you."

"Tommy, you don't have to do that, it's late, I'll be fine. I'll walk. I'm sorry for waking you up." He doesn't know what to do now. He has a few other friends besides Tommy, but they're not the call-at-two-AM type of friends. Maybe he'll have to go for the hotel. Maybe he can go home from school with Tommy tomorrow. Tubbo has never been more thankful for it to be a Thursday.

"Oh my God, Tubbo, you're not going to walk three hours to my house. We're coming to get you."

Tommy is such a good friend. Tubbo doesn't deserve him. "Thank you," he says quietly.

"Send me your location."

"Phil? Tubbo needs us to come get him," Tubbo hears Tommy say as he opens up messages and sends Tommy his location. He hears Phil's voice a moment later, but can't make out what he's saying.

"Okay, we're on our way. Is it alright if I hang up now?" Tommy asks.

"Yeah. Thanks, Tommy. You're the best."

"'Course I am, big man," Tommy says. Tubbo can hear him grinning through the phone as the call disconnects.

Minutes feel like hours as he waits for Tommy to arrive, and Tubbo is very glad he doesn't have to walk. The wind seems to bite right through his thin hoodie. He curls into a ball on the cold bench, almost going into a trance as he watches the lights of the cars flash by.

Eventually, one car stops in front of him.

"Tubbo!" Tommy explodes out of the front seat and walks over to Tubbo in less steps than should be humanly possible. Tommy wraps his arms around Tubbo tightly, and Tubbo finally feels warm and safe.

* * *

As Tommy stands there in front of the bus route maps, holding Tubbo, he feels cold and afraid. He doesn't know why the fuck Tubbo is at a bus stop at two AM instead of safe at home in bed, but there's dried up blood under his nose and fear in his eyes. It can't be good.

After a long moment Tommy says quietly, "C'mon. Phil's waiting." He leads them to the car.

Tubbo doesn't let go of him once they're in the backseat of Phil's Toyota.

"Hey Tubbo," Phil says as Tommy shuts the door.

"Hi Phil. Thanks again," Tubbo says quietly while buckling his seat belt.

"No problem, kiddo," Phil replies.

They spend the rest of the twenty minute drive in silence. Tommy isn't sure if it's because they're all tired or just that there's not much to say. Tommy, for one, has a million questions, but it doesn't feel like the right time to ask them. Tubbo is still crying a little, but at least he's not sobbing like he was on the phone. He clings to Tommy like he's a life raft.

When they arrive at the house, most of the lights are on. Will and Techno were likely awake when he and Phil left, but his brothers usually kept to their rooms this time of night. Once they're inside he sees Wilbur doing something in the kitchen and Techno, probably not wanting to be left out of the action, is sitting on the living room love seat on his laptop. The couch is made into a makeshift bed with blankets and bed pillows.

When Wilbur sees they've come in, he starts pouring brown liquid into mugs. "I made hot chocolate. It's fucking cold out there. Techno paid me five dollars to stand on the porch for a minute without socks."

Tommy groans. He leaves for _just forty minutes_ and misses out on a chance to make five dollars. "You coward! I'd do it for five minutes, Techno. Got any cash left?"

Techno rolls his eyes. "Nope. It wasn't even funny. He just complained like a bitch after he came inside."

"You're not getting any hot chocolate if you insult me like that," Wilbur warns.

"He just complained like a delightful young man after he came inside."

"Good enough," Wilbur says, handing him a mug before walking over to the three at the door to give them their own. Tommy kicks off his shoes and takes a big sip of the warm, sweet liquid before plopping down on the love seat beside Techno. Phil sits down in the armchair.

Tubbo, however, just stands in the doorway fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt and looking at the ground. "Guys, you didn't have to do all this. I'm really sorry, I just didn't have anywhere else to go."

Tommy opens his mouth to respond, but Phil is quicker. "Tubbo, you don't have to apologize. You don't even have to explain if you don't want to, though it would be helpful. I'm sorry if Will and Tech made you uncomfortable, I can ask them to leave if you'd like. They're just trying to help."

"Their sleep schedules are fucked, they'd be awake right now anyway," Tommy adds.

Tubbo nods. He doesn’t seem quite convinced, but he tosses his bag in the ground by the couch and sits down. Wilbur sits next to him.

They sit in the living room for a few minutes talking and joking and it _almost_ feels like normal. Tubbo’s a bit quieter than usual, but he joins in a few times. 

Sometimes, when Tommy can’t sleep, he comes to talk to Wilbur or Tech on ordinary nights. Then, if they get too loud, Phil will come down and tell them to _go to sleep for fuck’s sake_.

“Alright, it’s very late. I’m heading up to bed. You all better too, you’ve got school in a few hours. Will and Techno, if I wake up and see you haven’t slept, I’m not going to be happy.”

They all nod and head up to their separate rooms. Tommy changes back into pajamas before coming back down to make sure Tubbo is settled.

Tubbo is now half-sitting, half-lying on the couch in the dark living room. “You alright, Tubbo?” he calls out in the dark.

“Yeah,” Tubbo replies. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

“Night, Tubbo.”

* * *

Tubbo is not alright.

Even away from that house and his dad, he can’t sleep in this strange house with different sounds and smells and blankets. The car ride here and talking with Tommy’s family had been momentary distractions, but now the memories were on repeat again.

_He’s not here. You’re safe now. He’s not here. You’re safe now. He’s not here. You’re safe..._

There’s no clock in the living room, and Tubbo’s phone is plugged in out of reach, so he’s got no way to know what time it is when he gets off of the couch and walks around the bottom story of the quiet house. He feels a little bit better when he’s walking around.

After a while, he climbs the stairs with no determined destination until he comes to Tommy’s door. He pushes it open.

Tommy doesn't stir as Tubbo walks in. He's got a double sized bed, so there should be enough space for two people, but somehow Tommy is taking up the entire thing, despite being built like a stick. It's fine. Tubbo climbs onto the foot of the bed and curls up in a ball. He feels safer that way anyway.

Once he's not alone, he falls asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Tommy wakes up to Phil knocking on the door as usual. "Tommy, wake up! Time for school!"

Tommy groans, flopping over onto his stomach and kicking his legs out until his foot hits something solid.

"Ah!"

"Tubbo?" Phil and Tommy say in unison.

"Yeah," Tubbo says. He's curled up at the foot of Tommy's bed like a dog, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry I just... didn't wanna be alone."

Tommy nods. He understands. Even he has nightmares sometimes, and he hasn't gone through... whatever the fuck Tubbo is going through.

"Alright, well, you two need to leave in thirty minutes. Better get going."

Once they're both changed and their school bags are packed, they eat cereal to the sweet sound of Techno and Wilbur bickering about who will drive. Tubbo still doesn't say much, which is unusual for him. Tommy is worried.

  
  


The day passes in a blur for Tubbo. He sleeps through the first few classes, since he only got a few hours of sleep in the night. He’ll borrow Tommy’s notes later. If Tommy actually remembered to take any, and Tubbo’s able to find the information within the doodles and jokes.

He usually looks forward to the end of school, but today he’s dreading it, and with every class it only comes closer and closer. He hasn’t figured out where he’ll go. Nothing has changed since last night- he doesn’t want to go home to his dad, who’ll surely be furious he left without saying a word. He’s still only got enough money for one night at a hotel, and still doesn’t know how to get a job. It’s warm outside now, since it’s afternoon, but it’s only going to get colder in the long run. 

His dad hasn’t called, and he’s only sent one text, a simple “where are you?” in the morning. Tubbo left him on read and hasn’t heard from him since. 

Even after he’s fully awake, Tubbo’s mind isn’t on his classes. The last bell rings all too soon, and then he’s joining the stream of high schoolers rushing out of the building. 

Once outside of the school, he stands watching his usual bus slowly fill up. His fingers tighten around his backpack straps. He doesn’t know where to go now. Maybe he can sneak back into the school and hide in the bathroom or something while the janitors clean? There’s surely still after school clubs going on now. He’s not sure when they end, but he can probably make some excuse about that if he’s caught.

His thoughts are interrupted by a buzz from his phone.

**_TommyInnit:_ ** where are u?

 **_Tubbo:_ **I’m in front of the school? why?

 **_TommyInnit:_ **wilbur parked in the back parking lot, remember?

Tommy is a really good friend, and Tubbo doesn’t deserve him. 

When they get back to Tommy’s house, Tubbo sees an air mattress set up next to Tommy’s bed. He spends another night at the Watson house.

* * *

The days turn into weeks, then months. Tubbo could get used to this. He knows he shouldn’t; it’s not permanent. But thinking too far into the future only makes him scared, so he decides to just live each day as it comes. Someday, Phil will get tired of him, or he and Tommy will have a fight, or Will and Techno will need the money that feeds and clothes him for their college tuition, but until then, Tubbo is for sure going to take advantage of three free meals every day and a safe, warm house. Really, who wouldn’t want to live with their best friend?

Phil gets rid of the air mattress and Tommy and Tubbo help him assemble a bunk bed. (Tommy insists on having the top bunk.) He gets new clothes, some from the store, and some old ones from Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno. Phil gives Tubbo a check for his school lunch account when the balance runs out. 

Tubbo doesn’t ask for these things- he hasn’t asked them for anything since he asked to stay here- they just _do_ them. Tubbo isn’t used to this. He’s used to explaining to his dad that, when he forgets to go grocery shopping, Tubbo doesn’t have anything to bring for school lunch, and the adults ask him questions about why he’s not eating, so could he please have some money for school lunches? Or that the hole in his shoe caused a rock to rip his sock and cut his foot, and he really needs new shoes. But Phil keeps _giving_ him things, without a second thought. Without even asking Tubbo if he wants them. 

(He does. But to be honest, that’s not what he’d tell Phil if he asked. Tubbo doesn’t want to be selfish.)

Techno helps him with his homework, and Wilbur keeps him company when neither of them can sleep, or they have nightmares. Tommy teaches him how to play minecraft, and they talk late into the night about their plans for their shared survival world.

But in early December, Phil calls a family meeting, and Tubbo is scared again.

They don’t usually all eat dinner together. Phil cooks for Wilbur and him, and they eat together. Tommy, a picky eater, will sometimes join them with a PB&J sandwich or something, or other times just eats at his computer while playing games or doing homework. Techno will survive solely off of energy bars and peanut butter straight from the jar for as long as anyone will let him, so Phil leaves a plate for him in the cupboard next to the peanut butter and energy bars. But tonight Phil’s ordered pizza ( one of the only foods Tommy will actually eat) and required everyone to be there.

After everyone fills their plates there’s silence. Phil seems to have learned that food is the only way for there to be quiet when Wilbur and Tommy are in a room together. But after a moment Phil begins.

“So. Tubbo has been here for almost three months now.”

Tubbo’s hands are shaking. He puts down his pizza slice and hides them under the table. Tommy still notices, and grabs one of his hands under the table, giving it a squeeze. 

To Tubbo’s dismay, Phil also seems to notice Tubbo’s fear. “Don’t worry, Tubbo, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

Tubbo feels a rush of relief for a moment, but he’s still not sure if that means permanently or not. It’s not like he has any family who would take him in without giving him back to his dad. Will they put him into foster care if he can’t find anywhere else to go? It’s got to be better than the streets, but it’s not good. He just needs two and a half more years, and then he’ll have graduated and he can _finally_ have a normal life.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can justify having you stay here any longer without the permission of your parents.”

Tubbo gulps. “Parent. I’ve only got one.” 

This is going to be bad. He’s fucked. Why would his dad ever agree to let him stay here? He’d never fully explained what happened to the Watsons. He _still_ wasn’t ready to revisit those memories if he didn’t have to. All he’d told them was that he didn’t feel safe at home, and Phil had easily accepted that.

Phil smiles. “Ah, like us. Anyway, there’ll be lots of papers to sign if they do agree. Adoption is a complicated process, but it’ll make things easier in the long run.”

“A-adoption?” Tubbo chokes out, gaping. This was more than he’d _ever_ dared hope for.

“I mean, yes. If that’s what you want, of course.”

_Adoption._

_In the long run._

_If that’s what you want._

This has to be a dream. “Yes. Yes, that would be… that would…”

Tommy squeezes his hand again.

This is more than he could ever have hoped for.

He forgets, for a moment, that this is all assuming his real dad agrees. Tubbo doubts he will. His dad didn’t even allow Tubbo to go to sleepovers until Tubbo convinced him by saying it meant someone else would pay for Tubbo’s dinner. But then again… it’s not like anyone ever came looking for him. He supposed the school still mailed progress reports to the old house. 

(On good days, Tubbo would be praised for As. On bad days, he was hit for Bs.)

But still, the first one would have come several weeks after Tubbo left. He could have died and his dad might have never noticed. Tubbo still hadn’t replied to his text, and his dad hadn’t texted again. At least his phone bill was still being paid. 

But what if this is some sick game? To get Tubbo to come back because he thinks it’s safe? To lull him into a false sense of security with the unusual lack of threats and really, lack of anything? Maybe as soon as Phil calls, his dad will demand Phil bring Tubbo back immediately. Phil’s a lawyer, but Tubbo doesn’t think there’s any legal grounds to not bring a child to their parent when the parent asks.

That’s when Tubbo realizes they’re all looking at him. He’s not sure what they’re expecting him to say, so he just says, “I don’t know what he’ll say.”

Phil nods. “If he says no… there are other ways to go about it. I know there must be a specific reason why you left. I don’t mean to pressure you, but if he says no, we’ll need a specific reason, with proof, of why he’s unfit to care for you. We don’t have to go in depth about that right now though, unless you’d like to.”

“Okay,” Tubbo says. “Thank you, Phil. And all of you,” -though Wilbur and Techno are more interested in the food than the conversation, “I don’t know what to say.”

Phil pats his shoulder. “You already came over nearly every day. Doesn’t make too much of a difference that you’re sleeping here now too,” he says with a kind smile.

Tubbo smiles back. It’s true.

“Secondly, Wilbur and Techno… You’ll be at college next year. I was hoping you’d be willing to move your things into one room when you go off to college. Then Tommy and Tubbo could have their own rooms during the school year, but you two could still stay in separate rooms when you come home. I’m not stupid enough to put you both in the same room. I don’t think you’d both make it out alive.”

Tubbo subconsciously squeezes Tommy’s hand… he doesn’t want to sleep alone. He doesn’t like being alone, ever since he left. It’s stupid, but it feels like his dad could come take him away at any moment when he’s alone. On the rare occasions he’s home but Tommy’s not, he helps with whatever Phil is working on, and sometimes Wilbur appreciates an audience when he’s playing guitar.

Tommy gives him a questioning, slightly worried look.

“Uh. D’you mind?” he asks Tommy. Luckily, Tommy understands.

“Nope. Not if you don’t.”

“Phil, would it be alright if we kept sharing? I just don’t like being alone, I guess.”

Phil shrugs. “Fine with me, I suppose. Though you should probably start doing your homework in the living room or the dining room. Don’t think I don’t hear you talking 24/7, even after I ask you to get to work.”

They both groan, but agree.

The four of them have a pizza eating contest when Phil excuses himself to take a long, but necessary, phone call for work. Tubbo wins, Techno loses by one slice, and Tommy is disqualified because he refuses to eat the crust. Wilbur’s favorite part is the crust, so he loses by eating all of Tommy’s. Phil returns with disappointment in his eyes, but they all just laugh.

Tubbo really could get used to this.

* * *

Tubbo sits at the kitchen island. Phil sits next to him, dialing Tubbo’s dad’s Schlatt’s number. Tubbo has decided that regardless of how the conversation goes, Schlatt doesn’t deserve to be called dad anymore. 

He’s fidgeting, and his hands are shaking slightly. Phil had asked him if he wanted to listen in or not, and Tubbo had said yes out of curiosity, but he was feeling a bit unsure about that decision now. He didn’t have to hear Schlatt’s voice, thankfully, but it was still nerve-wracking knowing that Schlatt was only a cell phone connection away. 

“Hello, am I speaking to Jay Schlatt? Excellent. My name is Phil Watson, and your son Tubbo has been staying with me for the past few months.”

There’s a pause, and Tubbo knows what Schlatt is saying. His jaw tightens.

“Toby? My apologies. Toby, then.”

Tubbo _hates_ that name. No one calls him that but Schlatt and his extended family. But Schlatt always thought his nickname was just a stupid and childish version of his real name. Not that Tubbo ever minded that, since Schlatt calling him Tubbo would have ruined Tubbo. But he hates how the name sounds in Phil’s mouth. 

“Anyways, Toby has been staying with us recently. Normally this would never cross my mind for a child with a loving family-”

_So this shouldn’t even be a problem,_ Tubbo thinks, _our family was far from loving. Was it even a family?_

“-but seeing as you haven’t attempted to contact him or I-”

Shit, Tubbo didn’t tell him about the text. He was afraid Phil would take him back. 

“-I was wondering if… I was wondering what you would think about adoption.”

Maybe Schlatt forgot about the text?

“Really?”

Tubbo wants so badly to hear Schlatt’s response but he also doesn’t want to hear Schlatt’s voice ever again.

“I’m a lawyer, actually, and I specialize in family cases. So I’ll be able to draw up the papers myself. It’s just a matter of getting the signatures, and there will have to be a hearing, but it should go pretty quickly as long as we’re in agreement.”

Wait… Does that mean… Has Schlatt really agreed?

“Great! Shall we meet, say, Thursday to go over and sign everything?”

Tubbo’s hands grip the edge of the counter, and his knuckles turn white.

“Sounds good.” Phil gives the address of his office to Schlatt. “See you then. Bye.”

As soon as Phil puts down the phone Tubbo’s hugging him.

And now, Tubbo’s finding himself more angry than scared of Schlatt. But most of all, he’s just happy that he has Phil and Tommy and Wilbur and Technoblade. So incredibly happy.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ , Phil.”

“Welcome to the family, Tubbo.”

* * *

The hearing is scheduled on Tubbo’s birthday. Since running away, Tubbo had assumed he would never spend another birthday with Schlatt. But he can survive one more if it means he gets to celebrate with his new real family afterwards. And not just this birthday, but every one after.

Still, Tubbo would rather be anywhere than here. The harsh, fluorescent lights hurt his eyes and the wooden benches are far from comfortable. He thought courtrooms were supposed to be more elegant and official, but this one’s just like any other institutional room. 

Tubbo doesn’t understand most of what the judge says, but Phil does. He looks everywhere but Schlatt. Tommy holds his hand, and makes fun of the judge’s hairstyle in a whisper to the other three. They all come to support him, and Tubbo is grateful. He couldn’t sit alone with Schlatt _right there_ while Phil spoke. Or at least, Tubbo assumes he’s somewhere to the right. Tommy told him not to look right when they walked in. 

When Schlatt speaks, Tubbo only strengthens his death grip on Tommy’s hand as Tommy whispers fervent distractions to him. Tubbo isn’t listening. Schlatt’s voice echoes in his ears just as it has for _years_ , but Tubbo doesn’t even comprehend the words.

And then, before he knows it, it’s over.

The judge signs a paper, and hands it to Phil. Phil thanks him, and they turn to leave. But as Tubbo steps out into the courtroom aisle, he finds himself face to face with Schlatt.

Schlatt too stops walking for a moment, but doesn’t meet Tubbo’s eyes.

Tommy tugs his wrist. “Other way!” he hisses, but Tubbo ignores him. 

He has to say something. 

He has to have some kind of closure, or he knows that that final night will never stop haunting him.

“Thank you,” he says, finally. “For agreeing.”

Schlatt doesn’t reply, or smile, or even meet Tubbo’s eyes. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor and walks away.

And suddenly the fear has been completely replaced with pure fury.

“Stop, Schlatt,” he says. Schlatt stops, turning around halfway. Tubbo’s never talked like this to Schlatt before. At home it would be an immediate beating. In fact, he tries his best to not talk at all to Schlatt, unless he needs something or Schlatt speaks to him first.

“What did you just call me?” Schlatt replies, and even after all these years Tubbo is unsure if it’s anger or curiosity in his voice.

“I called you Schlatt. Because you’re not my dad anymore,” Tubbo says, careful to keep the anger out of his voice. But it’s still firm.

“I was never really your father, Toby,” Schlatt says, adjusting his baseball cap. Tubbo wants to rip it off his head. Tubbo _knows_ Schlatt is self-conscious about his hair.

And that’s it. That’s enough to break Tubbo.

“What the fuck? You pretended all those years, and I believed you. And those moments when you have the nerve to pretend… they made me question all the awful things you did.” He’s too loud, and Tommy is tugging harder on his wrist now, but he doesn’t care. “What’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you just put me up for adoption when I was born like a normal person instead of keeping me as your fucking punching bag?”

Suddenly Tommy is beside him. “What the fuck did you do to him?” The look in his eyes is completely terrifying, but it makes Tubbo feel safe. Because it’s directed at the one who terrified him for so long. 

“Step away from each other, now.” Security appears out of nowhere.

Tubbo steps back, but Tommy doesn’t. “I will NOT step away from that BITCH who hurt-”

“Tommy!” Tubbo and Phil say in unison, and Tommy, fists clenched, steps away from Schlatt, though he’s still glaring daggers. Schlatt takes the opportunity to walk quickly out of the courtroom. Security tells them to wait a few moments before they follow, and they do.

As soon as they’re out of the courtroom Tommy and Tubbo can both tell by Phil’s tight frown that their lives are over. “That, Tommy and Tubbo, was completely inappropriate. I know that was a charged situation, but you two need to learn to keep your mouths shut tight when it’s not the time. You can insult and cuss all you want in the car, but Tommy, if you’d gone a bit further with that, Tubbo might not be leaving with us now.”

Tubbo can tell Tommy is still very angry. “Like Schlatt would even take him home again.”

“That’s enough, Tommy. They have other places you can go besides our house and Schlatt’s house. You know this.”

“I know! But I can’t just let him- let him DO THAT! You can’t abuse someone like that without consequences!”

“There’s consequences, Tommy. But you saw how Tubbo reacted to Schlatt this time. I don’t think Tubbo should have to see Schlatt again for another court case he’d likely be much angrier for. But if that’s what Tubbo wants, I know we’ll all support him in that.”

“That’s not what I want,” Tubbo agrees. “It’s okay, Tommy.”

“It’s not okay, Tubbo. But if this is what you want, then let’s go home.”

By the time they reach the car, the mood has lightened. They stop by the grocery store to pick up the cake, and then get takeout from Tubbo’s favorite restaurant.

It’s not really over yet. Tubbo figures it’ll always be a bit complicated, being adopted as a teenager, and without an adoption agency too. There’s still a shit-ton of forms for Schlatt and Phil to fill out and sign. But it’s a relief to know at least he’s no longer tied to Schlatt. Schlatt isn’t his parent anymore.

It’s Tubbo’s sixteenth birthday, but it might as well be his first. It’s his first with a cake and candles and presents and movies. And it’s his first one celebrated with people he truly loves. He may have spent almost sixteen miserable years fearing Schlatt, but that’s over now, and he’s got a lifetime to spend with Tommy, Phil, Wilbur, and Techno. He’s not alone anymore.

All those years were worth it to finally find the family he deserves.


	2. are you tired of me yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo wonders if people ever change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sequel pog?? never done this before.
> 
> also saw [this art](https://twitter.com/sunaway_/status/1322408433165873158/photo/1) on twitter and decided this is what Tommy and Tubbo's room looks like I am very bad at visualizing/picturing things in my head that's why there's like 0 description of rooms in my fics.

It’s too quiet in the dorms. It’s almost _never_ quiet in the dorms. Sometimes it was quieter than the Watson house (since there was no Tommy here), but it wasn’t quiet. There was always somebody shouting down the hall at midnight, or idiots throwing dorm room parties on the weekend, or that one time someone shouted “This is so sad. ALEXA, PLAY DESPACITO!” in the hallway and set off every Alexa on their floor. Tubbo still wasn’t sure if that was an accident or not.

But now Tubbo is pretty sure he’s was the only one on this entire floor, maybe even the entire building. The last day of classes had been Friday, and over Saturday and Sunday, people had filtered out of the dorms with suitcases and hugs goodbye. They all had homes to get to and celebrations to attend and… Families. Families who missed them.

For the last three years, Tubbo had had all of that, and it had been the best three years of his life. Christmases had been something he looked forward to for months, rather than just another day. He’d often lost track of the days over winter break when he lived with Schlatt, but Tommy kept a countdown to Christmas on his wall all of December and Phil always bought an Advent calendar with chocolates inside for the four of them to fight over. 

And all of that wouldn’t be happening this year. 

He’d stayed close with Tommy. Of course he had. It had been a hard decision to go to colleges several states away from each other. But they still called at least once a week, and some weeks, every day. They played Minecraft together and helped each other with homework or sometimes just sat in silence enjoying the feeling of another person’s presence.

But it wasn’t the same without Tommy bursting into the room loudly when he was doing homework. Without Techno teaching him PVP. Without Will asking which chord progression was better. 

He hadn’t talked to Wilbur or Techno in _months_. He really missed them. It was just… he wasn’t sure how often families were supposed to stay in touch, and he didn’t want to screw up.

The silence hadn’t echoed in his ears quite so much over Thanksgiving break. He and Tommy had called nearly the entire break, both lonely in their empty dorms. Tommy thought an entire holiday centered around food was stupid. Tubbo supposed he might have thought the same if he hadn’t spent so much of his life hungry. 

(The Watsons didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving; they were British. They’d once eaten steak and kidney pie on Thanksgiving, and not even on purpose as a joke or something. Phil always apologized to Tubbo, as if Tubbo had ever had a good, normal Thanksgiving. He usually ate cereal.)

Tommy was at home now, or at least heading there. He’d told Tubbo his last class was on Tuesday. He had two countdowns on his wall this year: one for Christmas, and one for the end of the semester, which he said was nearly as exciting as Christmas. That was saying something for Tommy, who _really_ loved Christmas.

So it makes sense, then, that he’d want to spend Christmas with his family. His real family.

The last three years had been the best three years of his life, by far. Not even a competition. But he should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Phil was paying for his fucking college… Tens of thousands of dollars for a child he’d taken in only two years ago. What more could he even ask for? 

And yet, now he’s wanting more. Maybe it was stupid and shortsighted, but Tubbo would always rather have family than money or education.

The silence is interrupted by his ringtone. He ignores it. It’s either Phil or Tommy, and Tubbo doesn’t feel like talking to either of them right now. None of his college friends call him unless it’s an emergency.

...But maybe it is an emergency. He’d better check.

He flips over the phone that lies next to him on the bed, turning his head to see what it says. 

_Tommy._

He smashes the red button on the screen and flips the phone over again, burying his face in his pillow.

Only thirty seconds later it starts buzzing again. Tubbo ignores it until the sound of the buzzing becomes too obnoxious, and then he flips the phone over again, finger centimeters away from the decline button when he reads the name on the screen.

Naturally, after reading the name, he almost hits the decline button anyway. It’s fucking Schlatt. Tubbo hates Schlatt, more than anyone or anything in the entire universe, more than he hates people who kill bugs or pesticides or reading or homework or _anything_. 

But then he realizes something- who else is going to call him?

It doesn’t immediately make him hit the accept button. He thinks about it so long the phone stops buzzing. 

Tubbo stares at his reflection in the dark screen. He looks hurt. He looks like he’s about to cry. 

Maybe he is about to cry.

Fuck it, he’s not going to cry. He wants to scream at Schlatt. He wants to make Schlatt cry, because this is all Schlatt’s fault. This might be the only chance he gets to say everything.

Years ago, he would have jumped at this chance. He feels the rage that had dulled from the love of the Watsons slowly returning now, like a fire in his chest. He sits upright and types Schlatt’s name into his contacts, then taps the call button. 

It only rings for an instant before Schlatt picks up.

“Toby?”

Tubbo jumps a little bit at his voice, even through the phone. It’s been so, so long since he’s heard that voice. It still sounds horrible, but Tubbo doesn’t hang up.

“It’s Tubbo now,” Tubbo says, as forcefully as he can. No one’s called him Toby in a long time, either. “I mean, it was before too.” 

He almost hangs up with that. Because it just feels like _nothing_ has changed. Why is Schlatt calling him anyway?

“Okay, Tubbo,” Schlatt says, and Tubbo almost drops the phone hearing Schlatt use that name. “I don’t like it. But fuck what I like, y’know, you’ve got other people now.”

Tubbo swallows. It’s not like anyone can blame him for leaving. But the rage is slowly seeping away. He’s lost the energy to yell, and he can’t deny he feels a bit stupid for giving up so quickly.

When Tubbo doesn’t respond, Schlatt keeps talking. “I don’t know why I called, I just… It’s been a long time, Tubbo. And you’re normally so far away, but… I was wondering if you were coming home for Christmas.”

_What?_ There’s no way in _hell_ Tubbo is going back there- it’s not his home. It never was.

“Not home to me- just home to the Watsons, if that’s your home now, or your hometown, or whatever. I dunno. What’re your Christmas plans, To- Tubbo?”

“I- I’m not coming home.” Tubbo hates the way his voice breaks for an instant. 

“You’re not coming- why?”

Tubbo doesn’t want to tell him, doesn’t want to hear some bullshit rant he’s surely got planned, but Tubbo can’t think of a lie quick enough. “I wasn’t invited,” that sounds _way_ too sad- “I’ve got studying to do, anyway, so it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to come home. The Watson house is pretty distracting. In the best way.”

The fondness in his voice that comes with the last sentence isn’t even to make Schlatt feel bad. It just comes naturally.

“Understandable. It’s great to see you getting your education, pursuing a career. I saw that scholarship you won in the newspaper.”

Tubbo’s surprised he noticed- the article, if you could even call it that, about the scholarship was only two paragraphs long. But there’s not much news in small towns.

The first response that comes to mind, _I didn’t want to cost the Watsons too much money,_ is immediately vetoed. Instead he says, “You never encouraged me to go to college before.”

Schlatt never explicitly _discouraged_ him either, but Schlatt changed the subject any time Tubbo brought up really anything that cost money that wasn’t the biggest of necessities. Tubbo usually tried not to think too much about his future beyond the fact that he wouldn’t have to live with Schlatt anymore.

“We really didn’t have the money. But fuck, if I’d known you were gonna achieve shit like this, I would’ve been all for it.”

A side of him is saying _typical Schlatt_ , brushing off criticisms and then praising him, but another side is wondering if Schlatt means it when he acts like he’s proud of Tubbo for this. It was always rare for Schlatt to go this far… maybe there was a put-down somewhere that Tubbo missed.

But Schlatt’s calling him Tubbo. Tubbo thought that would never happen.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, kiddo.”

Silence hangs on the phone line. Tubbo doesn’t hang up, but he’s not going to be the one to break it. Schlatt’s on thin ice, calling him kiddo. Like Tubbo is his son or something.

He’s not.

“I was wondering, uh. Is my house distracting? For studying?”

Because there aren’t consequences when Schlatt’s over an hour away from him and doesn’t have the key to Tubbo’s dorm, and Tubbo is still pissed somewhere underneath the layers of hurt, he says, “Depends if you hit me.”

“To-Tubbo it- it wasn’t like that! I didn’t mean it to be like that, I didn’t- Tubbo, please. It’s been years and it’s so quiet here and it’s Christmas. _Please_.”

Tubbo likes that he sounds flustered from that, but the hurt in Schlatt’s voice catches him off guard. Schatt’s not like that. Not anymore. Not for a very long time.

“Okay.” He’s not entirely sure why he says it. Just because Schlatt is hurt now doesn’t erase all the hurt he’s caused Tubbo. But Tubbo doesn’t take it back.

“Thank you, Tubbo. Thank you.”

“I don’t have a car. Can you pick me up?”

Schlatt sighs, as if he’s doing _so much_ for Tubbo. As if he wasn’t begging Tubbo to come just a few moments ago. If Tubbo were a little less shaken from this entire phone call, he might’ve confronted Schlatt about that, but his brain is still processing everything and by the time he realizes Schlatt is being an ass, Schlatt is asking him to text his address. Tubbo just agrees, and Schlatt says he’s on his way.

The phone screen goes dark, and Tubbo is looking at his reflection again, wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into. 

It’s been years. He can do this. Schlatt can do this.

* * *

Tubbo loses track of time staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t realize how long it’s been until Schlatt texts him to say that he’s only ten minutes away. 

Tubbo jumps out of bed and begins throwing clothes into a bag. It feels painfully reminiscent of the last time he tossed things into a bag in a quiet room in the dark. (When did it get dark? He didn’t notice.)

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous. But he’s optimistic. And God, he loves Phil, but he desperately wants a dad who’s his own. He doesn’t want to take Phil away from Tommy and Wilbur and Techno. Raising three kids as a single dad must be hard enough, and Tubbo’s never stopped feeling bad for adding a fourth.

He’d thought going off to college meant independence. Not having to be such a burden. But he can’t stand the silence of this huge, empty building anymore. Even if Schlatt is horrible, it’ll surely be better than being alone.

He slings his backpack over his shoulder and heads downstairs to wait, since Schlatt never liked to wait. He watches out the window until Schlatt’s car appears a few moments later.

“Hey, Toby,” Schlatt says, as Tubbo climbs into the front seat. He’s smiling. That’s a good sign.

“Tubbo.”

“Tubbo, my bad.”

They sit in awkward silence as Schlatt pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Everything is exactly the same as it was. The fuzzy grey seat still had that grape jelly stain on the edge from when Tubbo was ten. Schlatt had screamed at him for ages because of that. (As if it was a nice car.) Schlatt still hadn’t taken the car in to get the small crack in the top right of the windshield fixed, and the radio was still quietly playing the same pop station it always did. It was almost eerie how nothing had changed, but it would have been weird to see everything change, too. It’s always weird when you leave something behind in your life. 

Schlatt clears his throat. “So how is it living with Tommy?”

Tubbo smiles a bit. “It’s really great.” He pauses. He’s not technically living with them anymore. Whatever. “It’s really great, every kid wants to live with their best friend. Phil’s so nice;” _so so so much nicer than you,_ “Wilbur and Techno treat me like brothers. And Tommy and I are best friends as always, of course. It’s more than I could have hoped for.” 

If it were someone else, Tubbo might’ve tried not to rub it in their face. But he wants Schlatt to understand how much happier he is. 

“That’s nice.” Schlatt’s voice says otherwise.

Silence again. Tubbo wants to restart the conversation, but he can’t think of anything to say. Before he does, Schlatt continues. 

“I’ve been... really lonely since you left.”

Tubbo frowns. What does Schlatt miss of him? Buying groceries for two? Hitting him? Telling him he’s a failure? Or telling him he’s incredibly intelligent just like his father and he’ll go on to do amazing things? They didn’t talk much when Tubbo got older. Tubbo tried to be home as little as possible. He went to school, signed up for extracurriculars, hung out at Tommy’s, went to the library or the park, anywhere to not go home yet. How different could it possibly be for Schlatt?  
  


“I’m sorry,” Tubbo says quietly. Not that he’s sorry for leaving, but he is truly sorry that Schlatt is lonely. He didn’t think he’d ever have any sympathy for Schlatt. But maybe he can if Schlatt calls him Tubbo and invites him home for Christmas.

“Thank you,” Schlatt says. No apology in response. But it’s fine. Maybe Schlatt just knows that no apology can fix what he’s done.

And then they’re both quiet for a long time. Tubbo stares out the window, watching the trees and fields fly by. He doesn’t recognize it yet, but maybe he will by the end of his four years at college. If Schlatt keeps inviting him back.

Eventually, he pulls a bag of chips out of the backpack on his lap and shares them silently with Schlatt. It feels rather comforting to have this moment with him, even if it’s in silence.

Tubbo has to keep reminding himself not to get too attached, not to let his guard down again. It’s really hard when all he wants is this. He doesn’t mind the silence. He just wants the company, and a family he’s really meant to be a part of.

He’s scrolling through his phone when he starts to see the familiar buildings of his hometown. He smiles. It’s good to be back. He missed it here, and he’s so glad Schlatt came to get him.

He really should let Tommy know he’s back home. He’s not as annoyed at Tommy as he was earlier. Maybe they can hang out sometime over break. Maybe Schlatt will let Tommy come over for the first time. But Tubbo quickly shuts down the landslide of _maybes_ that he wants to think about. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

He taps on Tommy’s name in his phone app. He’s never called anyone with Schlatt before. 

“Who’re you calling?” Schlatt asks, as if on queue. 

Tubbo doesn’t get a chance to say before Tommy picks up, after only two rings. “Tubbo, big man! What’s up?”

Tubbo immediately grins after hearing his voice, but he sees out of the corner of his eye that Schlatt does not have the same expression, and his face falls.

“Is that Tommy?” His voice is _harsh_ , like it used to be.

Tubbo nods, because what else is he supposed to do? The phone isn’t even on speaker, but Tommy speaks loud, and it’s too late to ask him to be quiet. Tubbo didn’t realize this would be a problem. But they’re almost to Schlatt’s house now, there’s nothing he or Schlatt can do about it.

“Not much, I’m back in town though,” Tubbo says, ignoring Schlatt. He can’t tell Tommy he’s with Schlatt yet. Not when Tommy could start screaming profanities at any moment if he becomes aware of Schlatt’s presence. He’ll have to ease Tommy into the fact that he’s seeing Schlatt again. “And I had a missed call from you earlier, sorry about that.”

“Can’t believe you would not pick up on Tommy-fucking-Innit, but it’s fine, it’s fine.” Tubbo rolls his eyes, smiling. “I just called you to ask when you’re getting home, but if you’re in town now, that explains it. I suppose I could excuse your not picking up if you were driving.”

Suddenly the car swerves to the right into the shoulder of the road and Schlatt slams on the breaks. Tubbo jerks forward, seat belt tearing into his shoulder. “SHIT!” he shouts, bracing himself against the dashboard, and breathing hard. What the fuck is going on? He looks at Schlatt whose knuckles are white against the steering wheel. A trickle of fear runs through him.

_It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine he wouldn’t have invited you here if he was going to-_

“Tubbo? Tubbo what happened, are you alright?”

“Hang up!” Schlatt snaps.

Tubbo hits the end call button without thinking, immediately regretting it. It would’ve been nice to have Tommy on the line through this. He really doesn’t want to do this again, he really doesn’t want-

He doesn’t have to do this again. He’s not going to let Schlatt walk all over him.

“Schlatt, Tommy’s just my friend, I’m gonna call him back now.”

“NO! You will NOT call that MOTHERFUCKER who took you away from me.”

“Schlatt! He didn’t take me, I left!”  
  


“You did not leave! He- he- he and that Phil man manipulated you, and manipulated me, and I will NOT have them here, you said they didn’t invite you, why is he talking about that when you’re coming home, you’re coming home to ME!!!” 

_Shit shit shit._

But he doesn’t have to stay here anymore. He doesn’t have to anymore.

He tightens his grip on his backpack and slips his phone into his pocket. He opens the car door and _runs_.

He runs and runs and runs and runs and he ignores the odd looks he's getting. When he realizes Schlatt isn't following him he collapses onto the curb and starts crying. Then he calls Tommy.

Tommy assures him it'll be alright and waits patiently for Tubbo to stop crying enough to tell him what's going on. Then Tommy tells him to go into the McDonald's down the road and ask for a cup of water to drink until Tommy gets there. Tubbo does as he says, and Tommy doesn't hang up, just keeps telling Tubbo it'll be okay and he's on his way.

When he gets into Phil's car, Tommy greets him with a hug and Tubbo melts into him. Tommy finds Tubbo's hand and squeezes it. "You alright?"

Tubbo nods. He's calmed down since the phone call. All he feels now is a vague disappointment. Whether it's Schlatt or himself he's disappointed in he's not sure. Maybe both.

Tommy leans back into his seat. "So tell me what the fuck happened and why you were in a car with Schlatt." He sounds like he's barely containing his anger, but it's at Schlatt, not Tubbo.

Tubbo explains everything. Tommy looks crushed as his head hits the steering wheel, messing up his fluffy blonde hair. "Fuck. Fuck, Tubbo! I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, that was so stupid of me, I just assumed you'd know you were invited and I shouldn't have assumed that after everything you’ve been through-"

"Tommy, it's fine. It's not your fault, it was just a misunderstanding." Tommy's face does not return from the steering wheel. "Look, I- I've got some issues, obviously-"

"Tubbo, that is NOT what I-"

"No, listen! I appreciate it."

Tommy turns his head to give Tubbo a confused look.

"I really appreciate that you consider me family, like, for real. That you didn't think you'd have to ask if I was coming home. You know I've never had family like that. I wouldn't have expected to come home at all if I was still stuck with Schlatt. I guess I just... internalized that families ended at 18. But I'm so glad this one's not."

Tommy smiles weakly. "Every time you talk about Schlatt, it makes me angrier. I want so badly to just fucking stab that bastard."

Tubbo smiles back. That's the Tommy he knows. "Every time I talk about Schlatt, it makes me sadder. Maybe we should just stop talking about him." 

Tommy agrees.

"Don't fucking bother with him again. Unless you really, really know he's different. But I don't think he'll ever be different, Tubbo," Tommy says, staring straight ahead as he turns the key in the ignition and the car hums to life.

"Yeah. It was stupid of me to think that he was different, when he gave me so many signs of being just the same. I just wanted him to be different so badly."

"I'm sorry, Tubbo. Again."

"Shut up, Tommy. It doesn't sound right to hear you apologizing so genuinely." They both laugh.

"Okay, but seriously," Tommy says once they stop laughing. "I love you, Tubbo. _We_ love you. Don't fucking forget it."

* * *

When they walk into the house they're immediately swallowed in a big hug from Phil, and a moment later Wilbur and Techno are running down the stairs to join the hug. 

“I missed you, Tubbo, why didn’t you call me?” Wilbur mumbles into Techno’s hair.

“Sorry,” Tubbo says quietly, “I just wasn’t sure if I was annoying you or like, how often brothers are s’posed to talk. I guess.”

“Lousy brothers call once a year, but good ones call whenever they want to. You don’t annoy me, Tubbo.”

“Same here,” Techno says, “And even if you were, I’m used to annoying people. My other brother’s Tommy.”

Tommy groans.

When they break apart, Tubbo swats Wilbur's hand away from his head as Wilbur tries to ruffle his hair, laughing. Wilbur then notices Tommy's distracted with comparing Tubbo and Techno's heights, and goes for Tommy instead. He succeeds until Tommy elbows him in the stomach.

Phil groans. "We've all been home for less than a minute, and you're already fighting?"

Tommy scoffs. "We're not fighting, it's just playful bickering!"

"Shut up, Tommy!" Wilbur says, clutching his side dramatically. "I've been gravely injured here!"

Techno rolls his eyes. "I need the first aid kit for the headache you two are already giving me. Tubbo, come play Minecraft with me. I wanna play bedwars but every time I try to play with these two, they just try to kill each other instead of the other teams."

Tubbo snickers and agrees, but Tommy's already whining. "Techno, you know you and Tubbo won't win any with meeeeee!"

"Oh really? 2v2 then, Tubbo and me versus you and Wilbur? Five dollars says we'll win best out of three," Techno challenges.

"Who said I would play?" Wilbur interjects. "This gremlin's shit at the game, he'll only drag me down."

"C'mon Wilbur, we won't have enough players without you! If you're actually any good, you can carry Tommy," Tubbo replies.

"Fine, I’ll play, if Tommy promises to not be an asshole. And he pays the five dollars if you win."

"Deal," Techno says with a grin and Tommy nods, rolling his eyes. "I'm about to be five dollars richer."

Phil pats Tubbo on the head before grabbing his keys from the hook by the door. "I'm going out to pick up some bread for dinner, don't burn the house down while I'm gone."

"If the house burns down, it's probably Tommy's fault," Tubbo says, the twins nodding in agreement.

"It is not! Does that sound like something I would do?" They laugh as Phil heads out the door, and then climb up the stairs to their respective rooms to start their game.

As they play, Tubbo wonders how he ever thought he could not be part of this family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello thank you thank you thank you for reading <3<3<3
> 
> big big big thanks to my friend Ender and my friend [Shotoroki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotoroki/pseuds/Shotoroki) for betaing this and making it suck less :D
> 
> here's my [tumblr](https://n0t-actually-satan.tumblr.com/) if you're into that. I say things there especially when I'm writing/posting new fics.
> 
> comments? pog. very appreciated. constructive criticism? very pog even more appreciated.
> 
> this was not as good as the last chapter I will never write anything as good as the last chapter but I hoped you enjoyed it anyway. still in shock that I got 500 fucking kudos on the last one. that was awesome. thank youuuuuu!

**Author's Note:**

> yo! thanks for reading! 
> 
> I am keeping up my streak of only publishing one work in every fandom I write for pog. except hopefully this won't be the last of this fandom OR THIS AU I might write a sequel depends on the response to this fic and if anyone's interested in reading that. sub to this work if you don't wanna miss it.
> 
> big big big thanks to my betas @shotoroki (on AO3!) and my friend Ender who I do not know the username of but Ender ily.
> 
> anyways! I actually don't have anything else to say, I hope you have a great day, don't forget to eat food and drink water and take your meds!


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